New Years Eve is a fine point for a memory.  I have three that stand out.  First is my first kiss...New Years 1980.  It happen at an Ice Skating Rink in Minot ND.  Thanks girls.  I thought, this is going to be a great decade...well, at least I had a thought.  The next New Years Eve memory happened in 1985.  Also in Minot, but at the time is was living in Bismarck and was just visiting the Magic City.  Since I have a great distaste for booze, and I'm a responsible person (damnit), I was the designated driver.  I got to haul drunk girls around to the hotels so they could "hook-up" with their boyfriends.  I got a real good look into the mind of young women.  I'm still scarred.       The most exciting time came on New Years Eve 1992.  I was in the Army at that time, so I could see my feet.  I was stationed in Fulda Germany and some buddy's and myself took a USO bus trip to Paris for the New Year.  I dressed for the occasion, wearing black and white Zubaaz, a black coat with red lining, and hot pink ski gloves.  That's right, I was a fashion fopau in the fashion capitol of the world. For those of you who don't know, Paris is where Europe parties on New Years, and I mean all of Europe.  I've never seen so many people in my life, and never want to again.  Europeans are just as stupid as Americans when they're drunk.  I don't know if you're familiar with the Champs Elysees, but it's just some monument with roads going to and fro, and every single artery that lead to it was full of people.  (see photo) At Midnight the city went nuts, which was nice. Then at 12:15, the city went dark.  Literally, dark.  They shut off the lights and the police with riot gear hit the streets.  "Happy New Year, feel my stick".  We had to get to a Metro (subway) entrance, and then pray we could find one heading to our hotel on the outskirts of Paris.  It was a mad house.  People shoving and pushing, and friendly Middle Eastern people dropping M-80's and laughing.  You learned quickly that if you find yourself in an open space duck back into the crowd before the explosion.  Good Times.  Once we got on the Metro, we were not alone.  I know how a sardine feels; that would be sweaty and stinky.  It was a pick pockets dream.  Just ask my buddy Sean.  Of course once you get on the Metro, you have to get off.  Here's a Big Q tip for you.  Have the tallest person in your group just start screaming "pardon seevu play" and then push him out and hold on.  Between getting separated from our party, helping an old man who got punched, and of course trains changing directions, it took over two hours and a lot of walking to get back to the room.  It was scary, exciting, fun, and utterly perfect. I wouldn't change a thing, and I new that night that I would never beat it, so why even try.  Since then I just go home, pop in a video and fall asleep well before midnight.If you don't have a show stopper memory for New Years, keep trying.  Be safe, too a point, and have fun this New Years Eve.  Here's to you, a memory. Q

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